


Is It Domestic Bliss - Or Tooth-Rotting Fluff?  Hard Work Pays Off

by witchway



Series: The Perils Of Dating Tony Stark [8]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: College Student Peter Parker, Domestic Fluff, M/M, Results Of Hard Relationship Work, Tony Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:28:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22094878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/witchway/pseuds/witchway
Summary: This particular story would be in the Tooth-Rotting Fluff category.But no, this was Domestic Bliss.  It had to be Domestic Bliss - there was no A03 category for “Results Of Hard Relationship Work” but there should be. This was the Domestic Bliss he had worked damn hard for, and dammit Peter deserved it.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark, Starker - Relationship, Tony Stark/Peter Parker
Series: The Perils Of Dating Tony Stark [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1520855
Comments: 10
Kudos: 69





	Is It Domestic Bliss - Or Tooth-Rotting Fluff?  Hard Work Pays Off

**Author's Note:**

> If you are unaware WHY Peter uses the terms "Angel" and "Baby" you'll have to back up and read The Addict, in this series.

It wasn’t _just_ that Tony’s hands were extremely talented (and they were.) The nimble fingers that could carefully solder a tiny chip to the circuit board of engine timing system on his Audi knew exactly what to do when they started working with Peter’s body.

It was also the fact that Tony knew Peter well, knew Peter **_very_** well, in _every_ sense of the word. And then there was the experience. About a year’s worth. Put all that together and it was no wonder that Tony’s hands would make Peter moan. 

But then Peter groaned and covered his face, covering his eyes with his palms, and Tony knew that had nothing to do with his hands.

“Whatsamatter, Baby Boy? What can Daddy do for you?” he asked casually as he rubbed Peter’s feet. He asked, but he didn’t turn his head. The truth was, he was a little bit more into this television documentary than he thought he would be. Still, Peter came first.

“Daddy isn’t going to get to do ANYTHING for Baby Boy if I can’t make my study group get past this chapter. I mean _it’s not advanced calculus_ , people. Well, it _is_ , literally, but it isn’t _hard_.”

They were in their regular Netflix-and-Chill position, Peter laying on the couch working on his laptop, his feet in Tony’s lap. Tony had been rubbing his feet absently, but not paying much attention. Maybe it was fatigue, but Tony had actually been _watching TV_ this time. In the early days, Tony had to struggle to keep his hands to himself while sharing the couch with a busy Peter, letting getting his schoolwork out of the way so they could move on to better things. If Tony *didn’t* do a good job he would get distracted, working calves, then thighs, then other things, until Peter couldn’t do his homework anymore, and it would have to get done later.

But tonight Tony had been content to _only_ rub Peter’s feet as Peter struggled to explain, via his social media chatroom, the points of calculus that his study group simply couldn’t grasp.

“Oh baby, I _can_ relate. Try pretending that they’re all little children, and you’re trying to explain things to them politely.”

“How do you talk to them like children AND be polite?”

“Yeah I never really mastered that.”

“And I don’t know how to explain this any more simply than I am already. This is harder work than I thought and I’m not sure it’s worth it…”

Tony nodded knowingly, making appreciative noises. He couldn’t do much else. So he massaged the foot in his lap and watched the TV screen. 

Peter looked up from the slow-motion train wreck that was his study group’s chat function and looked at his lover, overwhelmed with a sense of déjà vu. Hadn't he been here before? But that was ridiculous, _of course_ they had done this before. This WAS Netflix-And-Chill night. They did this on a regular basis.

Still there was something about this moment, something important. The same, but different.

He had been with his comedian (even now, he thought of Tony as ‘his comedian’) for coming up on two years. They had began dating after bizarre aliens had arrived from space (including one human, also named Peter but Tony always referred to him as StarFlake) contacting the Avengers and reporting on an invading Over-Alien intent on relieving the universe of half its population. Knowing the world might end at any minute made otherwise-unwise decisions seem perfectly reasonable. Like getting together in the first place. Or going out on that third date, or the fourth. Or saying I love you. Or getting engaged. Even though he never showed up, Peter and his comedian owed _a lot_ to that alien, wherever he was.

Peter smiled indulgently when he thought of their early days together. In those ‘It’s Hard Work Dating A Comedian’ days. In those early days, he might have half an hour, if he was lucky, to work on his laptop during the Netflix-and-Chill sessions. More if Tony was playing video games, which might keep his interest for a couple of hours. But if Tony was trying to actually watch something? Peter would have to plow through his Variables classwork in record time all while Tony’s hands moved closer and closer to sensitive bits. He was (he hoped) the only one at Columbia who looked at his grades and blushed furiously. But anyone would blush if they knew what Tony’s hands had been working on when he Peter hit ‘send’ on that A+ project…

Tony insisted Peter could keep working when the oral started, but Peter had never gotten callous enough to perch his laptop on Tony’s _head_. Tony kept threatening to construct a shelf that would hold the laptop in place with enough space to accommodate his head, but other than lengthy arguments over how to patent/sell the product nothing had ever come of it.

Peter smiled, amused, as he thought about those early, dicey days. Those ‘hard work’ days. Not that they weren’t worrisome at the time. Tony had showed so many signs of developing a sex addiction in those days Peter found himself actually searching ‘How do I know if my boyfriend has a sex addiction?’ on the internet. It wasn’t all bad – the addiction seemed completely focused on Peter alone, and, if he complained about it he wound up with a facefull of roses. 

Something had happened that had curbed that addictive behavior, but Peter had two minds about what that had been.

Part of Peter was sure that it was simply a matter of he, himself, had become a better lover. In the early days of dating his comedian he came like a virgin-on-prom-night (Tony’s standard joke) and the scientific side of his brain informed him that was why Tony had to do it so often, because the actual experience was so short and unsatisfying. So Peter (ever the scientist) had set out to (manfully) last longer in Tony’s mouth. When THAT didn’t work he set out to (manfully) talk and tease Tony for as long as possible. Which did, in fact, help Tony last longer between fixes.

That was the scientific mind of Peter. There was another part of Peter, however, that had another theory.

That theory had to do with a series of confessions his comedian had made after a long period of sleep deprivation (and some very hot sex.) Confessions about his constant fear that Peter was on his way out. That Peter would ‘realized he had accidentally fallen into bed with Tony Stark’ and would thus, logically, ‘bail.’ It made Peter’s heart hurt, knowing how Tony had been, at all times, certain that Peter was in his bed for the last time. While Peter had been living every day like it was My Last Day On Earth, Tony had been living it like The Last Days Of Us.

Things had changed significantly, after that night. The one Peter thought of as “The Night Of A Thousand Confessions.” The night they had both admitted they lived in fear of having any serious conversation that would jeopardize their Schrodinger’s relationship. But, as Peter had helpfully pointed out, if they never argued, how would they have makeup sex?

This had yet to happen, of course (the argument, not the makeup sex. They had practice makeup sex, just to make sure they knew how to do it.) It had been quite a struggle to communicate “in the living room” the way they communicated in the lab and on the battlefield. They might never get to a place where they were completing each other’s sentences (the way they completed each other’s thoughts in the lab or completed each other’s moves when training on the compound) or even understanding each other’s intentions, but at least they both agreed they couldn’t read each other’s minds, and periodically reminded each other to stop trying. It was hard work, just as Peter had been promised, but Peter remained optimistic. 

As for communicating in the bedroom, Peter felt they were making steady progress, especially now that he had convinced Tony it was OK to talk during sex. They had to spend time doing the careful work of going over (and over and over) what was sexy bedroom talk and what was actually offensive. Peter refused to call it ‘dirty talk.’ He maintained that speaking factually about what they were doing and what they wanted _didn’t_ count as dirty talk (“Why is it dirty if we both want to be doing it?”) and Tony… well… Tony just needed to know he was safe if he accidentally blurted out his feelings during tender moments. 

Which, much to Peter’s surprise, he was far more inclined to do than Peter had _ever_ expected. 

Outside the bedroom they had developed a shorthand when it was time to time to tackle serious issues. Tony still instinctively made jokes at inappropriate times (decades of muscle memory had taken their toll.) Peter usually navigated Tony’s verbal fencing through patience and gentle redirecting, but if he was in a hurry to get to get to the point he signaled it by putting his fingers on Tony’s mouth (meaning, “I need you to stop joking for a moment.”) If Tony took Peter’s hand and kissed it, it meant he was willing to try.

Tony, too, had invented a shorthand of his own. When he put his hands on Peter’s eyes, it indicated “It is important you not roll your eyes at what I’m about to say, and if you keep your eyes closed I can speak directly.” Taking his hand and kissing it meant that Peter had received the message. 

Peter actually covered his own face now, working to hide his smile. He was grinning ridiculously at these memories. He looked back at his laptop as if really reading the screen, hoping Tony wouldn’t notice. Going over these memories as they sat on the couch, on Netflix-and-Chill night? This was too sweet, a little _too_ too sweet. 

Peter had often thought of his life as a long boring AO3 story. This? This particular story would be in the Tooth-Rotting Fluff category.

But no, this was Domestic Bliss. It had to be Domestic Bliss - there was no AO3 category for “Results Of Hard Relationship Work” **_but there should be_**. This was the Domestic Bliss he had worked damn hard for, and dammit Peter deserved it. 

At least, it _would_ be Domestic Bliss _if_ this horrible group project chat wasn’t going on. Peter moaned loudly again, grabbing a pillow from the couch and using it to cover his face.

“What’s the matter Pretty Baby?” Tony said again.

“What’s the matter is I am _always_ stuck in study groups with _morons_ … wait… ” Peter brought his head out of the pillow.

“Did you just call me ‘Petie Baby’ or ‘Pretty Baby?’”

Tony looked at him sideways.

“That depends. Which one did you like?” he asked with a crooked grin.

“I think I like… both?” Peter said cautiously. “I think… yeah I think I like those.” He sat for a moment, chat group forgotten, trying them out in his head. “Yeah. Just… _please_ don’t mess up and call me that in front of Fury.”

“That’s OK, if I screw up you can just retaliate and call me ‘Angel.’”

“Do you like it when I call you Angel?” Peter asked softly. That earned him another sideways look and crooked grin.

“I like the _reason_ you call me Angel,” Tony replied.

“Do you like it when I call you Baby?” Peter asked, his voice even softer. His bare feet were in Tony’s lap. He moved one closer to Tony’s torso, stroking him with his toes.

“I like what you’re _doing_ to me when you call me Baby,” Tony whispered back. He wasn’t pretending to watch the television any longer. He took Peter’s foot in hand and pressed it lower.

Peter took one last look at the chat function where his study group argued in circles. “DONT KNOW GUYS JUST AS STUMPED AS YOU ARE” he typed furiously and closed his laptop, moving it aside. In one swift, smooth movement he was in Tony’s lap, combing his hands through Tony’s hair and whispering against his mouth. “Maybe I should take you into the next room. I’ll call you ‘Angel’ and you can call me ‘Mr. Parker’ and I’ll slip my cock inside you and see if I can make you confess how much you love me.”

“Oh no. No, Mr. Parker, if we go back into that room I’m going to bend you over and make you feel good.”

“But you haven’t let me do it to you in ages,” Peter found himself whining, but that just made Tony smile. “Oh Pretty Baby, if you want to do _that_ , you’re going to have to earn it.”

“Oh, is that a fact? Well maybe I’ll just take you into the hallway, and force you to your knees, and take out my cock, and remind myself _why_ I call you ‘Angel.’ And maybe…” he said, kissing and nibbling along Tony’s ear. “If I start practicing again…I can talk dirty the way you want. And if I do… I remember once you said I was coming _so_ close to it… maybe if you make me crazy enough I’ll just lose control and I can…”

These used to be words he could (barely!) squeak out when he was hiding his head. Now he pulled back and looked Tony directly in the eyes.

“… fuck your mouth?”

The expression on Tony’s face was worth all the work. The expression on Tony’s face was worth all the work in the world.

**Author's Note:**

> That's It.
> 
> The END to the series "The Perils Of Dating Tony Stark."
> 
> I hope you enjoyed.
> 
> Thank you, as always, for those who not only read all the way through but COMMENTED as well.
> 
> Commenters - you have NO IDEA how MUCH you make me happy!
> 
> (You would like to be a commenter, wouldn't you?? Comments are EASY! Try it!!)


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